


The Colours of Vegas

by definingqualities



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Las Vegas, M/M, Phan - Freeform, businessman phil lester, give him a break jeez, the poor man is just tired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 16:52:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definingqualities/pseuds/definingqualities
Summary: When you're a man who's got it all, what else is there to do? Phil wants out, and he wants out now. So when the opportunity arises he quickly takes a trip to Las Vegas and meets a certain someone there who changes his life. For the better or for the worst? It's tough to say...





	The Colours of Vegas

One hand was rested against the table, the other used to prop the man’s head up as he forced his eyes to stay open. But oh boy did he need to sleep. He formed the habit of thinking about his life at 2:40 am instead of sleeping. Thinking about him and everything he had. But even with everything an average man could want, he was getting tired. Maybe he would have preferred to sleep away his problems instead of making more but oh well, he was here now right? Why couldn’t he just be happy? He had everything he thought he wanted. Nice house, nice car, nice wife--

 

“So, any questions?” 

 

The person presenting their idea had finished and were now looking around the small room waiting for the responses from the people sitting around the table. He was one of them.

 

“Lester...?” 

 

Oh shit, was he drifting off? He lifted his head up, blinking blindly at the sudden light.

 

“Were you even listening?” He looked ahead to see his co-worker looking at him in a mixture of concern, disappointment and disgust.

 

“Yeah- Yeah I was I’m just-” Phil scrubbed his face with the palms of his hands, sighing deeply, “It’s been a long day.”

 

“It’s 10 in the morning.” 

 

He squinted at his watch.

 

“Yes, yes it is.” He sighed again, “It was just a long night…”

 

“Oh…?” John raised his eyebrows at him, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Damn Phil, Bella’s a lucky lady.”

 

Phil sighed and shook his head, John couldn’t be further from the truth but he was way too tired to try and correct him.

 

“If you’re not able to stay awake at 10 in the morning maybe you should just go home and rest up.” Another man from the table chimed in. There was a chorus of agreement.

 

“I suppose. Will you tell Mark? I think he’s busy right now.” Phil began pulling on his coat from the back of his chair, packing up his laptop in his bag and getting ready to leave.

 

Once he got the all clear, he didn’t even take a second glance at the place. _ God he hated it more than anything _ . Just a bunch of old men sitting around a table making huge decisions for the business like they’re nothing. And oh  _ god _ the comments they make. Racist, sexist, you name it, they’ve made a joke about it. And he hated it, he hated being associated with people like that, he hated having to spend 5 days of his week with them. He was done. One day he’d quit and run away. Or at least that’s the dream. 

 

He threw himself down into his car, leaning his head back against the expensive seat. He hated that too. Why would someone buy such an expensive car when a cheaper one would work just as well. It was his wife’s decision. She just loved spending money on the luxurious things in life but more specifically, she just loved spending  _ his _ money. He always figured that’s the only reason she ever spends time with him, let alone  _ married _ him but he tries not to think about it. 

 

He sighed heavily as he opened his eyes. He then started the car and began pulling out of the car park. He was probably not in the best state to drive but this car wouldn’t drive itself so he didn't have much of a choice. 

 

It wasn’t long before he was stopped at some traffic lights so he used the time to unlock his phone and go to his contacts. He tapped on the name written “Bella Lester” and stared blankly at the call button for a few moments. He could call her and tell her he’s on his way home.

 

But maybe he shouldn’t.

 

It might seem too out of the blue to suddenly be calling her all lovey dovey “Hey honey how are you going” style so he instead threw his phone down on the seat next to him and stared at the lights until they changed.

 

And thought about how badly he needed to get away.

 

Every time he saw a sign on the road that pointed to a location that was so much nicer, so much more interesting and shiny and  _ not here _ it took everything he had to stop himself just turning off of the highway and just leaving. Get out of there, change his name and start new. 

 

He was living in America at the time.

 

He wasn’t even  _ from _ America but he moved from the UK a few years ago when he got displaced from his branch of work and was moved to San Francisco.

 

It was actually a pretty ok place and it may have been one of the only things he didn’t hate now. He was honestly just bored. Maybe in another life he would be able to appreciate the place more.

 

Not bored of the place, just bored of his every day. It’s all the same anyways but maybe that’s just what happens when you become an adult.

 

His self reflective thoughts were cut short when he turned to pull into his driveway. The gravel made a semi-satisfying  _ crunch _ under his tires and under his shoes as he walked to his nice, presentable house. It was a double story house with a nicely manicured garden out the front. There were flowers blooming in little colourful bursts and hedges lining the border between his front yard and his neighbours. The house was pretty standard. White plaster running to a tiled roof.

 

Bella didn’t work, she had all the money she could want from him so when she got bored she would always be seen cleaning, gardening, generally looking around the house so he supposedly should thank her for his basic wealthy-- but not super wealthy --house.

 

It was pretty peaceful on his street. Being close to 11:00 am, all the kids that were usually screaming and riding down the cul-de-sac were at school and all the parents who yelled when they thought their “precious angels” were out of earshot were at work. 

 

He pushed his door open, kicked his shoes off by the couch and stumbled up the steps half asleep. He was so ready to just throw himself onto his bed and just sleep on top of the covers for eternity. 

 

Or at least that’s what he thought when he opened the door to his bedroom. The only problem being that instead of being greeted with his lovely, familiar, inviting bed he was greeted with something he’d rather not have. He saw Bella. In  _ their _ bed. With a guy he hardly recognised.

 

The two turned to see him, with the sound the door made it was pretty difficult not to notice, but they had different reactions. Bella’s face contorted into a look of guilt and shame where as this mystery man merely sat up, greeting Phil as if he was a guest of his house and not the other way around.

 

Phil’s face remained blank as he closed the door with the same force he opened it and began trudging back down the stairs to throw himself down on the couch. He put his head in his hands, closing his eyes for just a moment. A moment that was quickly ruined by panicked feet following him down the stairs and in front of him.

 

“Phil? Phil please-” He quickly put Bella’s voice to the panicked feet, “I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry.”

 

He lifted his head to meet her worried gaze, inhaling deeply as he did so. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

 

She stared at him for a moment with both a confused and confusing expression on her face. “What are you trying to say?”

 

He shrugged. He wasn’t dense, he figured something like this was going on but he wasn’t ready to come out and actually say it. That would only make the situation a million times worse.

 

“Phil-- Please, just say something.” She pleaded. He shrugged again. When he looked at her he could see the tears running down her flushed cheeks so he instead turned his attention to the wall behind her. “Please don’t be mad.”

 

“I’m not mad.” He sighed, shaking his head sadly, “Honestly, I’m just tired.”

 

Her sore eyes met his. That was something she remembered loving about him, something about his eyes that held so much life and love. But now it felt like there was no light in his eyes. What once was blue felt more grey, more tired, more weary and she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was so much going on behind them that she may never get to see.

 

She couldn’t shake the persisting feeling of guilt seeping into her dreams and into every corner of her mind and now that he knew she could feel the feeling plaguing her psyche. And he didn’t even seem to care.

 

_ That was the bit that made it that much worse. _

 

She always thought he didn’t care about her but this was really the nail in the coffin, the cherry on top of this pristine  _ fucking _ cake. If their relationship was a cake it’d taste really fucking awful, she thought to herself. The cake may look pretty on the outside but inside it was just full of painful nostalgia and a lasting taste of bitter that sticks around for way longer than it really should have.

 

She really didn’t want to be crying, not in front of him at least. But here she was, spilling her guts on the glass coffee table for him while he sat there, not even  _ looking _ at her. It never used to be this difficult to tell what he was thinking, he used to be so open, so vocal but now he just seemed so empty. 

 

“You really don’t care do you…” She broke the silence, speaking in a voice much softer, much more hurt than before.

 

“I told you, don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” He continued to avoid looking Bella directly in the eye, instead shifting his gaze from the spot on the wall, to the floor then to his well manicured hands which were folded carefully in his lap.

 

“I don’t mean this-” She gestured, exasperation taking control of her tone, “I mean me- I mean  _ us. _ ”

 

Phil sighed yet again, he seemed to have been doing a lot of that today. He was at a loss for words, what could he say? He couldn’t say yes but in the same token, he couldn’t say no. 

 

“It’s not like that.” 

 

“Then what  _ is _ it like?!” Bella snapped. She couldn’t deal with this anymore, she couldn’t pretend everything was alright. 

 

Phil responded by merely shaking his head, there was nothing left for him to say.

 

“Well?? Why won’t you give me a straight  _ fucking _ answer???”

 

“Maybe because I don’t  _ fucking _ know.” He growled, low, husky and  _ angry _ . With that he stood, grabbing his shoes and keys from the bench next to the door and slamming the door behind him. If he wanted to leave then now would be better than ever, he didn’t even pause to turn and see Bella as she pleaded for him to stay. 

 

That didn’t matter anymore.

 

He threw himself down into his car, and was quickly reminded of his life not long before. He was leaving his work and dreaming about leaving. Just taking a turn off of the highway and going somewhere new- 

 

_ Perfect _ .

 

He reversed out of his driveway in one quick motion, sped down his street and onto the highway, his shoes still sitting on the passenger seat beside him and Bella still crying on the porch, watching him leave.

 

And you know what? At this moment he was happier than he had been in a very long time. It felt wrong to admit but honestly, it was kinda freeing he thought as he took a turn towards the magical land of Las Vegas.


End file.
